


Subdivide and Multiply

by lost_spook



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Multi, Not As Shippy As It Sounds, Sedoretu, Sharing a Bed, Trope Bingo Round 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 18:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/lost_spook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Among the many things Tegan never planned, getting married to three aliens at once was definitely one of them, but that’s life on the TARDIS for you, or in this case, life off the TARDIS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Subdivide and Multiply

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Trope Bingo square "sharing a bed", also from a discussion about Sedoretus on LJ. (The suggestion for this one came from John_Amend_All.) Also for in the [500 Prompts Meme](http://lost-spook.livejournal.com/300554.html) \- 44: This division must end – Five/Tegan (DW).

That was one of the things about living with three aliens who were all from what they claimed to be more advanced civilisations – when you wound up stuck on a planet where you had to be married (to _three_ other people, no less) in order to be granted a house, the other members of your party didn’t think it was weird, they only thought how fortunate it was they made up the right number between them and gave you reproachful looks when you objected.

The Doctor had been airy, which Tegan thought was never a good sign: “It’s merely for convenience’s sake, Tegan. After all, you were the one who was complaining about staying in the TARDIS in her current state.”

Tegan would have pointed out that, considering the fact that the console hadn’t stopped smoking and that Nyssa had collapsed following an explosion in the corridor, she had been pretty restrained about it all, but the Doctor had already gone.

“I think it’s a very interesting proposition,” Nyssa had said, being as scientific and rational as ever. “There were some planets in the Traken Union that had similar ideas, and I always thought it sounded very civilised. Does Earth really only practice marriage between _two_ people? It sounds very limited.”

And Tegan had to admit that, no, that wasn’t exactly the case, but she still wasn’t keen on marrying everyone else in the TARDIS just to get a house. She didn’t want to marry _anyone_ just to get a house. That was supposed to be what estate agents were for.

Turlough had had plenty to say on the subject, but since that was mostly about how primitive earthlings were, in between disturbing suggestions on how they were going to go about this, it had inevitably ended in her punching him hard on the arm before marching off to find somewhere solitary where she could grumble aloud without anyone telling her she was an unreasonable savage.

And, when she thought about it, she didn’t have any logical reasons for not marrying three other people at once and she supposed that maybe to people from the future she sounded like some Victorian explaining why women couldn’t have the vote because it’d make their brains explode. Besides, like the Doctor said, it wasn’t an _actual_ marriage. Nobody was going to make the four of them do anything they didn’t want to. They’d just have a house that hopefully wasn’t going to explode while the other three worked on the TARDIS repairs and she tried to avoid the constant stream of incomprehensible technobabble and complaints that she’d sat down on somebody’s important diagram.

It was only that it had rapidly turned out that it was a whole lot less clear cut what they _did_ want. 

Nyssa, retiring with Tegan on the first night, had been composed yet distinctly pink and pointed out that she disliked lying unless it was absolutely necessary, and that she was very curious about the whole arrangement both from a sociological and cultural point of view and also as a matter of xenobiology, or in other words, she wondered precisely how compatible a human and the sole remaining Trakenite might be.

Tegan had to agree afterwards; it was certainly educational. She’d never have expected that from Nyssa. She couldn’t truthfully say she was sorry, either. 

And then Turlough reckoned that his week with the Doctor had been equally eventful, and it was also fairly certain that scientific curiosity as to compatibility between Trakenites and whatever-the-hell Turlough was were going to be answered now that they were moving on, in the pattern that had been carefully and solemnly explained to them before the bonding ceremony. And even though Tegan was healthily sceptical about Turlough’s claims, it still left one big unknown in the equation.

So, now, she sat up in the bed and played with the sheets as she watched the Doctor. Funny, she thought, everything here was so weird – wrong colours, wrong smells, nothing she was used to – but the sheets felt like cotton. They probably weren’t, but it was comforting.

“Something wrong, Tegan?” asked the Doctor, without turning his head to look. He was still fiddling with a piece of the TARDIS.

She rested her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands. “How’m I supposed to sleep over here with you rattling things about and talking to yourself in techno-jargon?”

“Oh,” said the Doctor, and then he did turn round. “Well, the people here seem very friendly, but we don’t want to offend them and the communal spaces are very open. I suppose I could see if Turlough and Nyssa –”

“No!” said Tegan. “I mean, I don’t think they’d want you barging in on them right now.”

The Doctor suddenly became intently interested in the spare part again. Then he shifted about awkwardly, and said, “Tegan, I know you’re not entirely happy about Turlough, but I hardly think he would take advantage of the situation –”

“Maybe he won’t,” said Tegan, dryly, “but I have it on the best authority that Nyssa _will_. Trust me.”

He tried hard to look as if he hadn’t understood, and then leant back against the table he’d been using as a workbench, as if realising there was no point in pretending when it was only the two of them.

“And Turlough says that you and he –” She stopped when he give her one of those looks and realised there was no way in hell or whatever alien paradise planet this was that she was finishing _that_ sentence.

The Doctor sighed. “Well, I’d rather not just sit here all night, Tegan. The sooner I complete the repairs, after all, the sooner we can leave.”

Tegan thought about it. She thought about lying back down and pretending to sleep, and then that she didn’t much like dishonesty either. “Is there any hurry?” she asked. “It seems peaceful enough here. Nothing’s attacked us and we’re trying out an alien lifestyle. Doesn’t seem too bad to me.”

“High praise indeed,” he said, but mitigated the remark with a smile. He moved over and sat down on a chair beside the bed. “You want to stay?”

Tegan shrugged. “I don’t mind, that’s all.”

“Even so, the repairs –”

“Could be left for one night, right?” she said. “I mean, you sleep, don’t you? Sometimes? I’ve seen you.”

He gave her a curious look, and then nodded. “Sometimes, but I rarely need to.”

“But it doesn’t do you any harm, though?”

“On the contrary, Tegan. Time Lords aren’t so different from your species in that respect.”

Tegan took a deep breath. “So, you could just try that for tonight?”

“Sleeping?”

She smiled. “Don’t worry, Doctor. I’m not suggesting anything else. And even if I was, I’m sure if you screamed loud enough, the other two’d come to your rescue. Well, I mean, unless they were too pre-occupied –” 

“Honestly, Tegan!”

“And maybe that way I’ll finally get some sleep, too.” 

The Doctor gave her a puzzled look. “I wasn’t being that loud, surely?”

Tegan lay back down, not wanting to explain that she suffered from too many nightmares and lately she’d become a very light sleeper. He’d probably want to fix it, or try to reason her out of it or something, and who the hell knew what that would lead to. She’d rather take her chances with the bad dreams.

“Tegan,” said the Doctor, suddenly choosing for now to be one of those moments when he actually took notice of her. “Is something wrong?”

She shook her head. “Come on, Doctor, _you_ were the one who asked me to marry you. You can at least act as if sharing a bed with me isn’t the most terrifying thing you’ve ever faced.”

“I suppose that’s true,” he said, sounding amused, and moved about to the side of her. Somewhat to her surprise, he had acted on her suggestion. “Nightmares, is it?” he added, softly, and, as far as she was concerned, unfairly. “Tegan, the Mara is gone.”

Tegan reddened. “I know, but as you all keep reminding me, I’m only human. Just because something’s gone doesn’t mean I don’t have nightmares about it. Or about Cybermen and the Master and every other monster we’ve run into. It’s normal. It’ll wear off in time.”

“I see. And if we happened to stay somewhere a little more peaceful for a while, that might help?”

She burrowed her head into the pillow. She hadn’t been asking for pity, or to keep any of them in one place longer than they needed to be. “I didn’t say that.”

“No,” he agreed, and suddenly sounded worryingly enthusiastic. “And as you say, from the sociological stand point, it is fascinating. Of course, I’ve come across many such arrangements before, but never taken part in one. Time Lords don’t tend to marry very often, as a rule.”

Tegan grinned to herself. “I’m shocked.”

“Regeneration, you see,” said the Doctor. “If Time Lords do marry, it ceases to be binding at first regeneration – unless both parties wish it to continue. In the early days, there were some very complicated law suits that most of those involved found more absorbing than the marriage in question. The majority of them lasted centuries longer, too.” He grinned at her. “An awful lot of Time Lords simply aren’t interested in these sorts of arrangements in the first place.”

“I’d never have guessed.”

The Doctor moved to the side of her. She thought she was probably being frowned at for her sarcasm. She turned around to find he was actually staring up the ceiling and, she noted without any surprise whatsoever, still dressed under the sheets. He’d abandoned his jacket ages ago while fiddling with pieces of the TARDIS and she hoped he’d removed his shoes, but she didn’t have the energy to ask, so she merely grinned to herself again.

“Then, good night, Tegan,” he said, slightly too cheerfully and firmly. 

She turned back over, and rolled her eyes where he couldn’t see. “Don’t panic, Doctor,” she said, sleepily. “I’ll save trying to seduce you till _tomorrow_ night.” 

And she thought, as she finally relaxed, never mind scientific curiosity or any of the rest of it, suddenly the situation was somehow only deeply reassuring, and she thought she might actually get a good night’s sleep for once. After all, most people found it hard enough to find one person willing to marry them. If she had three, that made her lucky, didn’t it? Well, lucky if you ignored the fact that one of them was Turlough, but you couldn’t have everything.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Permute and Combine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5145251) by [JohnAmendAll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnAmendAll/pseuds/JohnAmendAll)




End file.
